


Acrid Retribution

by BolterSexual



Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Character Maiming, Fukken Xenos, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-07
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-12-14 05:44:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/833429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BolterSexual/pseuds/BolterSexual
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hate is a weapon, but do not let it consume you. It may lead to costly mistakes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acrid Retribution

**Author's Note:**

> This was written on a whim; apologies.

The crimson light of the drop pod bathed the squad in an aura of death. Tempers were high, the sensation thick in the air like the scream of the atmosphere against the outer hull. Leera graced her bolt pistol with gauntlet covered fingertips, casting a passing glance at the Apothecary Chaplain as he donned the pristine white skull of his own armor, the red, soulless eyes set into the visage of the fearsome helm somehow more threatening in the near darkness of the pod.

Tyranids. Some of the most vile xenos to ever plague the galaxy, and somehow having taken root on an Imperial world.

The Inquisitor tried not to imagine how or why, but instead allowed contempt at such disgrace to stew in her veins, ramping her adrenaline for the coming battle. This is what was demanded of her by the Inquisition, and so be it. She found Mathias' words passing over her thoughts as she fluttered her eyes closed, the drop pod shaking violently as it continued its descent into the planet's atmosphere.

"There is no greater weapon than fury for the enemies of mankind. Show them the true wrath of the Emperor and you will never falter."

Fair enough.

Lifting her helm, Leera donned the engraved ceramite, felt a growl rise in the back of her throat as the maglocks clicked into place on her gorget.

"Ten seconds!" The Chaplain barked as he stormed to one of the several doors that would soon spit them forth into countless waves of bloodthirsty xenos.

She should allow the Astartes to advance from the relative safety of the pod before herself, but this wasn't about protocol. This was about bloodshed. Either alien or human, and it was up to the entire squad to determine whose it would be. Bracing herself against the cramped walls of the pod, Leera took her place behind him, golden eye glittering with hate.

With an impact that nearly jarred her from standing, the pod thudded heavily against the planet's surface, bay doors hissing as they fell open to reveal the battlefield.

Sure enough, this had once been inhabited by humans, though there was heavy doubt that any remained as the Tyranid forces took quick notice of their arrival and reacted just as predicted, swarming them as the squad exited the drop pod hastily so as to avoid being overwhelmed in the cramped space. Immediately, Leera's senses were awash with the din of bolter fire, her own pistol seeming a mockery despite the pinpoint accuracy it was wielded with. Plumes of flame erupted from just to the rear of her position as a member of the kill-team emerged with a heavy flamer, purging any of the xenos that dared enter range.

Quicker than she would have liked, the hivebeasts closed the gap and ranged combat became difficult. The roar of chainswords raised a growling cacophony and the Inquisitor joined it with her own, snarling as the teeth of her blade connected with the nearest foe, the blow shattering the hard chitinous shell of the creature, paving the way for a mortal wounding. The entire scene was a flurry of howling Tyranids and Astartes bellowing in unfathomable fury with each enemy falling to their advance, but there lacked focus.

"Find the Tyrant!" Leera roared over the vox, her blade nearly drowning her own voice out as it shredded through another of the millions in the swarm.

"Nine o'clock, Inquisitor!" the Chaplain Mathias' booming tone resounded in response.

Of course he'd already spotted the beast, Leera grinned under the visor of her helm, wheeling to get a visual on the large xeno. What she hadn't been expecting was to see it already approaching her tiny human form, jaws flowing with bloodied teeth and saliva as it emitted a roar that sent chills over her spine, organic blade crackling with energy and poised in a large, arcing swing. Instead of fear, pure vitriol flooded the Inquisitor's system before she dove out of the way in a roll, grunting under the weight of her power armor as she launched herself forward to grapple a jutting spine from it's carapace, cloak flowing behind her as she landed between the other protrusions on it's armored backside. Leera felt unusually stifled from the Immaterium, yet this had been anticipated from intel gleaned in prior accounts of tyranid engagements and the Inquisitor had prepared herself for combat without the aid of her ability to draw from it. Pure, unfiltered hate would be the sole fuel for her attack, a challenge most thoroughly accepted.

The Tyrant thundered it's cry of rage and the swarm began to flow as a single entity to the beast, leaving the Inquisitor little time, the attack window waning as the Tyrant coiled and thrashed to buck her away. However, the distraction proved enough for the hail of bolter shells that bombarded it, one of them thwacking into the armor of the xeno almost too close to her own body for comfort, the mass reactive head exploding in a rain of alien blood and flesh that coated her in a sheen of impossibly dark crimson. The searing acid inherent in the fiend's lifeblood began it's quick work on her power armor, diminishing what little time was left for the offense.

Belting a cry worthy of battle, she arched her form to bring down the screaming edge of the gilded chainsword, every fiber of muscle in her body throwing enough force into the blow to damage the Tyrant's thick armor carapace at the neck. The xeno's own bellowing cry rose with hers as the serrated blade carved a rough path through to the beast, drowning out the heavy impact of bolter rounds erupting. Already, smaller beasts joined the fray and received judgement as they rushed to the aide of their own, some being thwapped away and others converging with the Tyrant in fearsome defense. The acid bored it's way into the thinner sections of her gear, sending her synapses ablaze with pain as it began to devour her flesh. Leera howled with agony and contempt as the roaring chainsword began spitting up ragged, wet chunks of the tyranid, more of the creature's acrid blood spraying from the wound and accelerating the rot of her own protection. There was a sudden jolt downwards as the audible crack of Mathias' Crozius connected with the Tyrant, sending it closer to the bloodstained earth before dropping completely as the Inquisitor buried the barrel of her bolt pistol into the gushing wound she'd created and emptied the clip into the fiend's skull.

Immediately the swarm flew into chaos, scattering wildly as the kill-team advanced to their position, securing the immediate vicinity. Mathias stormed to meet the Inquisitor as she collapsed to the ground from the back of the creature, shrieking as she ripped the maglocks of her armor free and spasming violently in pain. The Apothecary Chaplain stilled Leera despite her hysteria in his firm grasp, Narthecium unit hissing softly as a needle bearing an analgesic pierced an arm stripped of its ruined gauntlet. Created for Astartes physiology, there was no doubt in his mind of its potency, and it quickly bore the desired effect as Leera's form slowly ceased its writhing, the sheer strength of the drug serving as an intense sedative to her human body.

Mathias grimaced under his helm to see the flesh already being eaten away through her bodysuit. "Relax, Inquisitor. You are in my care and will be well soon."

In her eye as it struggled to focus through the induced haze was something that was rare indeed: fear.


End file.
